Avatar of Nib
  • Last Seen: 1 yr ago
  • Old Guild Username: sartorous
  • Joined: 10 yrs ago
  • Posts: 1022 (0.28 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Nib 6 yrs ago
    2. █████████ 10 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

The next round should probably be collab posts. Anyone have plans for any?
Roderick watched the court mage move on to others gathered in the hall and now noticed two more individuals he had not. He took the wooden mask affixed to the woman’s face in first and then rested his eyes on the dire wolf. Not a massive thing but large enough to act as a mount and be much more fearsome than a typical wolf in the wilds. The other was a wisp of a girl who looked some years older than the children, but she carried a staff and looked intently at the king’s mage. Hopefully that meant she was, herself, a mage. Having a mage along, even a youthful one, could prove useful. He made a note to keep an eye on her as well; the wildling and her wolf looked more than capable, however. Already he was falling into old habits of picking out the youngest and greenest looking in the group and deciding to keep a watch on them. This would be different though. They weren’t riding into war, paid from a noble’s coffers. They were searching for answers. The most they’d need an old war horse like him would be for bandits or the like along the rode. Still, bandits could be dangerous in their own right.

As the others began to speak up after being marked as they were, Roderick simply listened to them and what they had to say. The boy was primarily concerned with food, the other warrior with the younger girl getting warmer clothes, the skulker with forming some semblance of a plan and a heading, the younger girl with the other warrior minding his own business, the wildling also with the girl, and the mage girl with the dire wolf. A strange bunch of individuals to be sure. He hadn’t intended on speaking up just yet, but seeing the look in the girl’s eyes brought back memories of his father’s pride and the pride of the younger men he marched with. He shifted his cloak lined with a bear pelt and slipped his gauntlet back on, eyeing the younger girl.

"They're right, little one. Pride will kill you in this world," he voice was deep and carried the hoarse tone of age, ”If you refuse to take what is being offered before we set out and succumb to the chill then you pose a risk and bring us a step closer to failure.”

Having said his piece, Roderick turned to the wiry man in the hood and the boy as he was scooping up his set of cartographer’s tool.

”I agree. Kaafara will be a good place to start,” Roderick said with a nod then knelt to eye level with the boy, ”You seem uneasy about returning. Don’t worry. Stay near me.”

He stood again, his joints popping softly under his armor, and looked to each of the group in turn with a nod.
I should have a post up later on today for the old-timer.
Managed to find some unexpected free time and get it up sooner than I thought I would.
The silvery piece of string lay forgotten in the muck, its once haunting glow now gone. Alistair skulked back into the forest, courched low and stepping softly. The forest soon swallowed him in its black maw, his black clothing melding with the shadows of night. He moved in the general direction of the monastery according to his map and kept the other Seekers to his left based on what he gathered from using the crow’s sight. It was a relatively simple ritual to prepare, only needing a mixed concoction of powdered barberry root and calamus root and then the use of wine to act as a catalyst for the mixture. After doing that it was a simple feat of soaking a loop of silver thread in the wine and powder and then plucking a piece of the creature or husk you wished to see through and potentially control. In Alistair’s experience is was much easier to control weaker-willed beasts, like the crow. It was also much easier to get a piece of smaller beasts.

As he made his way through the forest, Alistair checked over his bandolier of vials to make sure they were all secure and intact. So far, he had come through unscathed, though the same couldn’t be said for his guide. He didn’t dwell on the memory too much. It was the boy’s fault for following when he had repeatedly been told to leave. He had been the one to make too much noise and draw a group of those things right to him. Still, Alistair had managed to turn the disaster into luck and skulk away as the Decayed attacked the guide.

Something disturbed the undergrowth ahead of him, and he froze in place. He controlled his breathing as one of the Decayed hobbled through the thick brush. It turned its head side to side as it limped. Vines grew up around its body, leaves budding from each vine, and its skin looked to be covered in a strange mix of mud and bark. Half of its head was overgrown with brush and leaves. As it turned,Alistair saw the eye on the overgrown half was completely covered, and its other eye was glass and white. He sucked in breath slowly and quietly, waiting for the thing to pass by. Its left drug the ground as it slowly made its way across Alistair’s intended path. It turned its head toward him once but didn’t seem to take notice of the Seeker standing near it. Another, louder disturbance drew its and Alistair’s attention. Five more of the monstrosities limped out from the brush.

“Shit,” Alistair hissed and made for one of the trees. His footsteps were quick but light so as to not disturb the twigs and dried leaves. He leaned against the tree and hunkered down, listening to the things shuffle ahead of him. None of them seemed to have spotted or heard him. Peaking around the tree, he watched as the group disappeared from view in the forest. He let out a soft exhalation of breath and leaned his head against the tree.

“Too close…”

The remainder of his trek through the forest was uneventful, and he eventually made it to the base of the path up to the monastery, but he did not immediately hike up. Instead, he leaned against a tree off the right of the path and watched as others approached and made their way up. He noted what he could about the others summoned to this hidden place. When there was enough of a pause in the other arriving, he made his own way up and was greeted by the maidens there. He gave them a curt nod and continued past them without a word. Finally within the walls, he wondered the halls. A door banged open ahead of him, and a scraggly-looking fellow flew out of it. Alistair raised an eyebrow at him and stepped around a corner in the cross section of halls to not be seen himself. He watched the man a moment before taking back to the halls.

He found his own way to the meeting place and saw all the other Seekers and they him. As the Vicar explained her reasons for summoning the group, Alistair watched his surroundings and chose to stay to the back of the group. He saw the movement behind the Vicar before the creatures fully emerged. As its grotesque shape came into full view and it lunged forward, Alistair was already moving away from it and darted behind a chipped and crumbling pillar. He pulled a vial from his bandolier; this contained a mixture of dandelion and asafoetida. With a soft pop Alistair pulled the cork out with his teeth and spat it away while pulling out two knives balanced for throwing. With a steady hand, he poured the mixture over his knives, and they began glowing with a faint green light. Taking a deep breath, Alistair ducked out from the opposite side of the pillar and took aim. He waited for an opening in the melee between the beast and other Seekers and then launched his knives. They spun through the air, leaving a faint green afterimage. Alistair ducked back behind the pillar as one of his knives found purchase in the beast’s flesh, and the other grazed it. Should his potion take affect, the Pallid Maiden would now be seeing false images of the Seekers appearing near the real thing.
I'm working on a post that will bring Alistair to the monastery and up to th battle. I will hopefully have I up later today some time.
I am still around. I will try to catch up and maybe post tomorrow or Friday.
This looks interesting.
@Fetzen - Alistair will also more than likely be watching others approach from a distance before entering himself. Who is watching whome here though?
His joints gave off a dull ache as he stood there in the immaculate throne room; too immaculate. People were on the streets dying of starvation or the plague, yet here the king sat in his throne basking in the multicolored sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows. Though, the king didn’t so much as back as he did slump down in his throne. He looked tired and wrung out. Roderick understood; he felt the same way. This life on the road offering his skill with a hammer either to pound steel and iron or someone’s skull was taking its toll. He came to this meeting today to hear the king out and see what this mad errand would offer him should he survive. The pardon wasn’t important; he wouldn’t need it. He could also do without being celebrated as a hero. That wouldn’t do anyone any good. What would some old timer beat all to hell like him do for anyone as hero? The favor of the king and a reward would help though. He could retire on that, kick his feet up somewhere nice and relax his aching bones finally.

That’s if he survived finding the cure that is. He didn’t have high hopes, looking around at the others who responded to the king. Two among them were children; one looked older than the other, but both were scrawny wisps compared to Roderick himself and the other warrior standing there. He looked capable. The other man was… questionable. He looked wiry and more inclined to skulk about than stand firm and fight. He hoped this quest would need men more like him more than it would men like Roderick and the other warrior, especially with the children there. He would keep an eye on them. Another child wouldn’t die on his watch. He was tired of death, weary from the toll it took on him over his long life. Watching people die as often as he had would do that to a man, it would haunt his eyes.

As the hooded sage finally came down the line to him, he shifted his helmet slightly and slid off his left gauntlet so he could shake back his sleeve. The king’s man traced his finger over Roderick’s arm and muttered to himself a moment. A shining symbol appeared upon his forearm before fading away from sight and memory as though it were never there. This mark was suppose to protect them from the blight. If that were so then why were they not administering these to the populace to protect them? Why only the foolish souls in the throne room? Best to let the questions welling up lie for now. His mind would do better to focus on the task at hand and do what he could to work with those around him and find the cure. Finding it would take time, maybe a lifetime. Roderick just hoped at the end of it all there would still be people left to benefit from it.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet